


Axl Rose Never Looked So Good

by Dancing_Adrift



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bars and Pubs, Bikers, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Road Trips, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-01 07:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6507634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_Adrift/pseuds/Dancing_Adrift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared and friends are biking through the Rockies on a multi-day road-trip for his 30th birthday. Jensen is the bartender at their last stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Axl Rose Never Looked So Good

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Jared's [post-hiatus hair/rockstar!selfie](https://www.facebook.com/JaredPadalecki/photos/pb.277897975749138.-2207520000.1456524832./482656891939911/?type=3&theater) posted to social media on 01/13/16.
> 
>  

Today is a Saturday. Today is also Jared’s birthday, and a pretty big one, at that. Studying his reflection in the bathroom mirror of some seedy motel at the foot of the Rockies, Jared raises one eyebrow at himself and contemplates what impact turning thirty might have on his life. People always seem to make a huge deal out of the big three-oh, but Jared doesn’t understand their fear, their anxiety about entering this particular decade. He doesn’t _feel_ any older, and he certainly doesn’t feel _old_. Although, he considers as he strokes his full beard and watches the old man opposite him do the same, the faceful of hair certainly does seem to age him significantly. It’s no surprise that his friends have been teasing him all week, calling him ‘Mountain Man’ and ‘Paul Bunyan’, or adding onto his usual nickname of JT, declaring him ‘JT the Lumberjack.’ The monikers are certainly warranted - Jared can grow a mighty fine beard, and he’s rather proud of the attention it garners - but it’s time for a change.

Every June, despite the warmer weather of summer, Jared stops shaving and just lets his facial hair go. Then, after a month and a half of growing it out, he shaves it all off on his birthday to celebrate making it to another year and to signify a fresh start. It’s become a bit of a thing, though, for him to shave it a bit… _creatively_ on the very first day just to have some fun with it. Jared laughs a bit at himself - perhaps that silly tradition is part of what keeps him feeling young, and he’s totally okay with that. Today is that day - day of birth, day of ritualistic beard removal - but as he stands there staring blankly at his overgrown, hairy face, he still has no ideas as to what this year’s design should be. Even though _he_ doesn’t feel that turning thirty is a momentous thing, it still seems like he ought to do something special to commemorate the occasion, and he’s stumped.

Jared is still moping about in the tiny bathroom - lean, toned body clad only in boxer-briefs and white ankle socks, propped up against the sink and having a staring contest with himself, still lost in thought - when there is a loud knock on his motel door. The steady hammering goes for three rapid-fire beats, a slight pause, and then repeats once again in the time it takes Jared to stumble into a pair of gray sweatpants and holler “Just a second!” at his insistent visitor.

He doesn’t even stop to check the peep-hole before he flings the door open - for the past three days, he’s been motorcycling east towards and through the Rockies, a bit of a birthday road-trip, with eight of his closest friends; they’re on their return trip now, and he knows for a fact that their group makes up a vast majority of the small motel’s current tenants. The door swings wide to reveal a man slightly shorter than Jared (specifically, 5’8 to his 6’4 - almost _everyone_ is shorter than Jared), but with a mane of shaggy, shiny brown hair and a beard to rival his own. His friend Richard’s warm, amber-hazel eyes sparkle with their usual mischief as he grins up at him from the cement sidewalk.

“‘Mornin’, Sleeping Beauty!” Richard grins widely at Jared, and hauls him into a surprise hug, his beard tickling Jared’s bare chest and his hand slapping his back in two solid pats before he pulls away, leaving Jared reeling a bit, but still smiling stupidly down at him. “I see you still haven’t shaved that bush off your face, birthday boy. What’s takin’ ya so long? Afraid of what you’ll find underneath all that hair?”

Jared just throws back his head and laughs, then returns fire with some good-natured ribbing of his own. 

“Nah, just can’t make up my mind. What’s _your_ excuse, old man?”

Jared’s barb doesn’t even phase Richard; something Jared loves about his dear friend is his quick wit and whip-sharp ability to think on his feet.

“Oh, nononono, don’t go playing that card with me, boy. I keep this masterpiece on my face to remind you peasants that you can never hope to achieve such manly perfection, therefore keeping you all humble. You ought to be thanking me.”

Richard makes his declaration with wide eyes and a completely straight face, which only succeeds in making Jared huff out another burst of laughter. He just shakes his head in amused fondness for his friend and moves their conversation along.

“So, what’s with the non-wake-up call? You guys itching to get going or somethin’? Thought we didn’t have to leave until eleven?”

Today is the last full day of their trip - an entire afternoon of nothing but open road and panoramic views of the stunning countryside, followed by one more night at a roadside motel before their final journey home tomorrow. The fact that their trip is coming to an end - a sad thought, since Jared has been enjoying every moment so far - paired with today being his actual birthday, means that Jared has been looking forward to taking his time; he’s in no rush to return to reality, not yet. 

“Well, yeah, that’s still the plan; no need to fret, Mooserella, we won’t make you leave the ball one second before midnight.”

Jared rolls his eyes; Richard ignores him as usual and continues.

“Rob and I were just talking about catching some breakfast at the diner down the road, figured we’d see if anyone else was interested, including you, Your Tallness,” he finishes with a mocking little bow. Jared pushes at his shoulder in pretend-offense with a mumbled ‘ _jackass_ ’ at the teasing. As Richard fumbles to regain his footing, his usual snarky smile still firmly in place, Jared glances up over the top of his head to where Rob sits on his bike, grinning broadly beneath a curly mop of brown-and-gray hair and aviators that hide his eyes, their usual brilliant blue replaced instead by the summer morning sky reflected in the mirrored shades. His good friend - and Richard’s unexpectedly innocent partner in crime - gives a jaunty little wave from his Harley and shouts cheerfully across the parking lot, “Happy birthday, J-man!”

Jared yells out his thanks, giving a wave of his own in response, and returns his attention to where Richard is waiting, uncharacteristically silent and patient.

“Yeah, sure, I’d love to get breakfast with you guys. But I still gotta shave, man. Maybe I can meet you there? Say, maybe, fifteen minutes?” Surely he can figure out _something_ suitable - fun and, preferably, but not necessarily, stylish - and trim his hair accordingly in that amount of time. Perhaps a Google image search will help… ?

“Sure man, no prob,” Rich parries, interrupting Jared’s thoughts. Then he pulls a folded square of cloth from his back pocket, giving it a little shake to reveal a gray-blue handkerchief with a muted tie-dyed pattern of circles on it. He offers it to Jared.

“Found this in the little gift shop up by the front desk, thought maybe you’d get a kick out of it. Perhaps with it lies the answer to your beard-trimming quandary?”

Jared accepts the gift and a corner of his mouth turns upward in amusement as he inspects the bandanna, the broad swath drab, yet cheerfully reminiscent of one of Jared’s favorite musicians growing up. It immediately brings a picture to his mind of how he can shape his facial hair, and he chuckles at the thought. If you can’t be a rock-star on your 30th birthday, when can you, eh?

“Dude, yes. This is perfect; thanks, man.” Jared grins a full-dimpled smile at Rich and gives his friend’s shoulder a quick squeeze, his new head-wear for the day in hand.

“You’re welcome,” Richard replies magnanimously. “Happy birthday, bro. See you down the road in a few - we’ll keep the coffee warm for ya, okay?” With a farewell pat to Jared’s bicep, Richard spins on his heel and saunters toward where his bike is parked beside Rob. Then, with a saucy salute from Richard, they push their helmets over their heads, flip up their kickstands, and give Jared a nod each before they’re roaring over the highway in the direction of the diner. Jared smiles after them for a moment, then turns back inside the musty motel room with fresh determination to embrace his birthday properly. He grins into the mirror as he readies his electric razor - he’s going to celebrate in style, just like the icon of the eighties he’s about to become. _Rock on_.

  


***

  


Jensen notices the Axl Rose wannabe from the very first second he steps into the bar. Granted, as the main ‘tender of the establishment - the only hole-in-the-wall serving alcohol in a fifty mile radius -, it’s kind of his job to keep an eye on his customers. This particular patron is pretty hard to miss though - _especially_ with that, quite frankly, god-awful facial hair and bandanna, the very first features to catch Jensen’s attention (thus the immediate association with the lead singer of Guns N’ Roses). Jensen’s mild disgust with the man’s poor shaving choices is short-lived, however; it distracts him only for a few short moments - then something makes the man laugh and the dim bar is suddenly lit up by a stunning, blindingly white smile bracketed by the deepest dimples Jensen’s ever seen.

A soft ‘ _Oh my_ god’ to his left yanks Jensen’s attention away from the startling allure of the man’s infectious laughter and sparkling eyes, forcing him to shift his gaze to his best friend and part-time co-worker standing beside him. Danneel, the woman responsible for the gasp that brought him to his senses, is fixated on the man as well, and when Jensen turns around to continue his observance of their newest customer, it’s not difficult for him to discern what exactly it is that holds her attention. Jensen and Danneel have been very close friends for a good many years now, and he knows a _lot_ \- more than any man _not_ sexually involved with her ought to - about what gets her motor running. To say that Danneel has a size kink is a bit of an understatement, and with the approximately nineteen feet of pure _man_ in the shape of Axl and his two, even _taller_ friends now following him into the bar, Jensen’s guessing that Danneel’s panties will very soon be in need of changing, if they aren’t already. That’s not to say that the three men’s overwhelming presence doesn’t do anything for Jensen; at 6’1, Jensen’s no slouch, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy being with someone taller than him, someone capable of being in control despite his own sizable height. He and Danneel both appreciate large men for their own reasons, but their effect on Danneel is much more… pronounced.

A towel landing damply on his shoulder snaps Jensen away from his musings, and he turns towards Danneel in protest just as she slips away from him and strides to the end of the bar, her most alluring smile firmly in place as she brightly greets their newest guests. There’s about eight men now - most of them much more averagely-sized - all pooling in the entry of the bar behind their behemoth leading trio, with Axl seemingly the center focus of the group. The two giants at his sides - one, a hulking beast of a man with laughter-lined eyes and hair going gray, distinguished-like, around the edges; the other a chiseled Adonis, square-jawed and fair, with eyes just as cunning - both beam broadly down at Danneel as she halts in front of them, their matching smiles leaving little doubt that they fully reciprocate her eager interest in them. Axl smiles down at her too, but just in a friendly way that carries no traces of anything more. Jensen’s eyes narrow slightly as he notices this lack of… well, _lust_ in the other man; Danni is a damn fine looking woman - even Jensen can acknowledge this, and he doesn’t swing that way. That the newcomer isn’t immediately pulled in by her thousand-watt smile and other charming… attributes… is a very interesting observation that Jensen mentally catalogs for later analysis.

Jensen watches as Danni leads the group to two large tables over near the darts and starts taking drink orders. The Titan-trio, as Jensen has dubbed them, take a menu and start poring over it, gesturing widely with their large hands as they discuss food options. Another three men - the first, brown-haired, with a glorious beard to match and a mischievous glint in his eye; the second, slightly shorter, a nervous tinge to his smile and touches of gray beginning to show at his temples; and the third, with a shock of black, unruly hair over a breathtakingly beautiful face with an equally stunning body evident under his tight t-shirt and slim-fitting jeans - place their orders, all with varying levels of charm in their smiles of thanks to Danneel, and then move to the pool table in the center of the room, the youngest one racking the balls while the other two select their cues. A man with a full head of silver hair and a beard that is nothing short of majestic makes his request with an accompanying little bow, his ringed hands steepled together in a way that gives him an air of almost nobility. He leans against the table behind him and watches two of his companions, the last of their group, set up for a game of darts. The taller of the pair is handsome in a very classic way, his dark hair parted on the side and slicked back, his simple white t-shirt and skinny jeans somehow managing to look dressy despite their inherent casualness. Clearly the youngest of their group is an Asian kid with a broad grin perpetually on his face; his arms are well-muscled beneath a purple graphic tee and he runs with a handful of darts to the starting line, with an exuberance that almost makes Jensen dizzy just to watch him. It’s a very attractive crew, and they seem to be of a mind to have a good time, but Jensen’s attention keeps drawing back to the center, to Axl. At one point, Axl catches him staring and they both quickly look away, a faint blush staining both their faces.

“Seeing something you like there, Jen?”

Jensen nearly jumps out of his skin when Danneel appears at his side, her mouth drawn in a smirk that makes it clear she already knows the answer to her question. She starts pulling glasses from the cupboards above the bar, her high heels giving her the few extra inches she needs to be able to reach them without a step-stool. She lines up the glasses of varying shapes and sizes, pointing to each one in turn, rapidly listing the beers meant to fill them. Jensen immediately goes to work at the taps, pulling the handles in a well-practiced way and achieving perfect pours on a series of IPAs, brown ales, and one porter. Meanwhile, Danneel turns to the fridge against the wall to retrieve a couple American lagers, bending at the waist and giving the patrons already seated at the counter a rather nice view. One regular gives an appreciative wolf-whistle, and when she stands back up, two frosty bottles clutched in one hand, she blows the man a kiss with her other, perfectly manicured fingertips pairing with a cheeky wink to achieve maximum flirtatious effect. She then grabs a large serving tray and begins arranging the drinks and a couple bowls of peanuts on its plastic surface.

“You didn’t answer my question, babe. You got the hots for one of our bikers?”

Jensen drags the towel from his shoulder and starts wiping away the rings of condensation on the counter left by the freshly poured glasses of beer. When Danneel makes no move to deliver her drinks, Jensen sighs and turns, leaning back against the bar and meeting his friend’s conniving gaze. He raises one eyebrow at her as what she’d said sinks in.

“Bikers?” He hadn’t gotten that impression from their newest group, though as he glances back over his shoulder at them, he registers an abnormal amount of leather jackets draped over chair backs.

“Yeah, bikers. Hot, right? They’re on a road-trip back from the Rockies, some birthday thing for one of ‘em. That Axl Rose wannabe, I think.”

Jensen laughs at that.

“Right? That’s exactly who he reminded me of, too!” Jensen shakes his head, amused at their shared train of thought. A mind-meld that he regrets almost immediately when Danneel’s face breaks into an outright predatory grin of triumph.

“A-ha! I knew it! You _do_ like him! Ha - do I know you or do I know you?” She presses the blood-red fingernail of her index finger dead-center into his chest, her face doing its best impression of the Cheshire Cat as she pushes by him to grab the drinks from the counter. Jensen spins, his body following her as she passes, and swings the arm holding the damp bar towel, snapping her in the ass with it. To her credit, she doesn’t fumble even the slightest bit at the impact, the tray remaining perfectly balanced as she just glares coolly back at him.

“Keep that up, Ackles, and I won’t help you find out if he plays for your team or not.” She arches one meticulously shaped eyebrow at him, silently waiting for his acquiescence which he gives with a curt nod and a faint blush in his cheeks; Danneel is the best wingman Jensen’s ever had, and she knows it. With a smug little smirk, she turns and walks away, the epitome of grace, her beauty and strength evident in the way she effortlessly carries the loaded tray across the room. Jensen tracks her with his eyes until she reaches the tables of bikers and begins passing out drinks with a bright smile for each grateful man. Jensen pays special attention to Axl, and is very pleased to note how he averts his eyes and flushes adorably when Danneel leans down low, giving a little wink as she hands him his beer. Jensen, satisfied with this turn of events, happily returns to wiping off the bar, now humming “Sweet Child O’ Mine” under his breath.

  


***

  


Jared leans further back in his chair as the waitress finishes distributing their drinks. He watches her warily as she turns to go, and he feels his cheeks go hot when she throws another wink at him over her shoulder before she sashays back to the bar. He reaches for his Eagle Cap IPA, intending to soothe some of his discomfort with the cool beer, when a burly arm darts out from beside him, stilling the glass mid-way to his mouth with a firm grip on his forearm.

“Dude, what are you doing? You can’t start your first beer of your _birthday_ without observing the proper procedures!” his friend Aleks exclaims, glaring down at him and shaking his head in mock-disappointment. He drops Jared’s arm back to the table with a thunk, nearly spilling his drink, the liquid sloshing dangerously close to the edge of the glass. He then raises his own beer and bellows out, loud enough for the whole room to hear:

“Friends and comrades - a toast!”

On Jared’s left, Tahmoh grabs his drink and grins at Jared, jabbing him in the side with a friendly elbow. Rich, Rob, and Matt lean their cues against the pool table and carry their beers over, soon joined by Gil, Osric, and Tim, every one of them with drinks raised in the air and smiling at Jared. A few patrons seated at the bar spin their stools around curiously to face the group and listen. Aleks continues.

“To JT, a mountain of a man in body, mind, heart and soul - and now also in age,” his friends all chuckle at that, and Jared makes a face, “- and the best damn friend any of us sorry sons-of-bitches could ever ask for! Happy birthday, Jay!”

With a chorus of ' _Here, here!_ ' and ' _Happy birthday!_ ', Jared’s friends and several others in the room cheer, saluting Jared as they all take hearty pulls from their respective beverages. Jared tilts his head back to guzzle down a long swallow of the coolly refreshing, hoppy beer, then sets his glass on the table with a smack of his lips and a satisfied sigh. He looks up from his drink just in time to catch Tim and Richard frowning at each other, both with matching lines of thick foam clinging to their bushy mustaches. He can’t help the burst of laughter that escapes him, and he wipes a hand across his mouth to ensure that his own facial hair is not similarly adorned. As he’s licking the traces of beer from his upper lip, his gaze is drawn beyond Richard’s shoulder and across the room to the man standing behind the bar.

Jared’s been not-so-subtly checking out the _gorgeous_ bartender ever since they’d settled at their tables. He’s been caught at it once, and the man had blushed as he’d turned away. But he isn’t looking away now, no; the man stares right at Jared and lifts an amber-filled shot glass in a silent salute. He nods, eyes still not leaving Jared’s, and then shoots the liquor in one smooth motion - hand to mouth, throw head back, swallow it down, bobbing Adam’s apple, exposed throat. It’s a stunning sight, and Jared just sits there, transfixed. The man slams the empty glass to the countertop, then stands with his fists clenched on top of the bar, his eyes closed and his chin to his chest as he absorbs the burn of the alcohol. When he looks back up to find Jared still watching him, a faint blush rises high in his cheeks and he nods again with a slight twist of a smile before breaking eye-contact and turning his attention to one of his waiting customers.

Jared takes another careful sip of his beer, humming to himself as he wonders at the beauty of the man now pouring drinks. He makes special note of how perfectly his long, slender fingers wrap around the tap handles, how he gets just the right amount of head with his precisely timed pulls. Jared squirms a bit in his seat, the combined thoughts of those fingers, _that_ man, and the term ‘head’ (even if it is just referring to beer foam) in his mind causing his pants to feel a _little_ too tight.

“Jared, buddy!” Suddenly Matt is beside him, causing Jared to jump in surprise from his greeting and the hand landing solidly on his shoulder. His friend wraps his arm around Jared’s back, squeezing into the space between him and Tahmoh. “Tell me, my man, how does it feel, being old?” Jared scoffs.

“Dude, I’m barely even two months older than you!” he protests.

“Doesn’t matter, dude, you’re always gonna be the older one.” He shoots him a patented Matt Cohen grin, equal parts panty-melting and shit-eating as he thumps his hand on Jared’s back.

“Yes, and also wiser; isn’t that right, my friend?” Tahmoh points out in his soft, steady voice.

Aleks overhears him and chimes in.

“Damn straight!” He stretches one massive arm around to pull the four of them into a squishy group side-hug. “You know the saying, age before beauty, pretty boy! And we’ve got that in _spades_ over you!” he teases, ruffling Matt’s floppy hair. Matt grins boyishly and releases Jared’s shoulder to reach up and attempt forcibly removing Aleks’ hand from his head. Jared dodges side to side, trying to avoid being hit; when Aleks starts bringing his other arm around Jared’s torso to launch a two-fronted attack against Matt, Jared shoves back in his chair, effectively breaking up his friends’ little tussle. He snatches his nearly empty drink from the table and steps back, finishing the rest of his beer as Matt steals his seat, still trying to one-up Aleks despite the bigger man’s clear advantage. Jared just rolls his eyes, sharing an amused smirk with Tahmoh before he walks away, deciding to go see how the pool game is going now that Rich and Rob have lost their third player to his inevitable, if playful, demise.

He comes up behind Robbie who’s staring at the table in intense concentration, clearly focused on planning out his next shot; Jared claps him on the shoulder, making the shorter man jump with a startled yelp. Jared and Richard share a laugh as Rob glares, puppy-dog hurt, back at Jared. Richard joins them at Rob’s side, clasping his other shoulder and coming to his pal’s defense, second hand patting lightly over Rob’s chest, above his heart.

“Why ya gotta be like that, man? Poor guy’s already had a stroke, don’t need to give him a heart attack, too!”

Rob nods his head up and down in fervent agreement as he looks gratefully over at Rich. His friend is smiling wide and he winks at him as he squeezes his shoulder.

Jared grins at Rich and then suddenly starts climbing all over Rob, monkey-arm hugging him, attempting to get a leg around his waist, and peppering his face with kisses.

“Aw, I didn’t mean it Robbie, you know I love you!” Jared has Rob’s arms pinned to his sides, rendering his squealing efforts to escape Jared’s amorous attentions almost impossible. He leans his face as far away from Jared’s lips as possible though, almost toppling them over in the process. Jared doesn’t let up until Rob is almost crying from laughter; then he plants the both of them solidly back on two feet each, grabs Rob’s face in both of his hands, and smacks a kiss right on his friend's mouth. He pulls back with a huge grin on his face, and Robbie pouts up at him, barely concealing his smile.

“I hate you. So much,” Rob whines. Jared reaches out and scrubs a hand over Rob’s hair.

“Nah, you love me,” Jared replies confidently. Rob slaps him half-heartedly on the chest.

“Yeah, yeah I do. Now go away, you big meanie.”

Jared laughs and glances towards the bar, still grinning wide, only to have his smile falter as he notices the brunette waitress once again approaching their group. He quickly ducks behind Richard to the opposite side of the pool table, doing his best to keep her from noticing him as he makes his escape. In a few strides of his long legs, he breathes a bit easier, successfully reaching the bar without encountering her and her uncomfortably flirtatious smiles. He pulls up a stool, setting his empty pint glass on the counter, looking up when he senses a body stop in front of him. He follows the centerline over a flat stomach, up the soft, silver-gray button-up shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows and revealing golden, freckled forearms; he glances a stark, white bar towel flung over broad shoulders before he reaches the man’s gorgeous face and finds himself caught, staring directly into the most… fuck, _enchanting_ green eyes he’s ever seen.

“Hey there, Axl,” the grinning bartender rumbles, voice whiskey-rough and as sexy as the rest of him. “What can I do ya for?”

Shaking himself out of the mental image brought on by the _wording_ of that question, Jared’s mind is still blank, trying to think, when he realizes what the man had called him, and he laughs, both impressed and amused (not to mention turned on as hell).

“Recognized that, did ya?” Jared scratches at the back of his neck in shyly pleased embarrassment, slanting his eyes back towards the counter. The bartender just chuckles and nods, his eyes crinkling in a way that would have instantly endeared him to Jared, if he wasn’t already absolutely enthralled.

“Yup. Love me some Axl Rose.” He winks. “So, what’ll it be? You want another?” he asks, pointing to Jared’s empty glass before swiping it away.

“Nah. Um, you got any Weed Whacker?”

“Only in bottles.”

“That’ll be fine, thanks.”

“You got it,” he responds easily, smiling fully at Jared again, seemingly unaware of the devastating effect he’s having on his newest customer. Jared swallows roughly and does his best not to stare at the guy’s ass when he turns to pull the drink from the fridge behind him. He spins back around, effortlessly twisting off the cap with a crisp pop and sliding the brown bottle across the counter to Jared who grabs it and takes a sip right away, needing something to keep his mouth from blurting out any of the numerous, stupid thoughts currently flitting through his brain, like ‘ _How are you so pretty?_ ’, or _‘I think I love you?’_. He swallows a couple times, not _quite_ chugging the beer, but coming close. He drops the bottle back to the counter with an audible gasp, dragging a hand across his mouth. The bartender follows the journey of his hand over his face, eyes darkening with some emotion, before he gives a small shake of his head and again meets Jared’s gaze.

“So, what brings you up here? Danneel not taking good enough care of you boys? Not that I mind the company, of course.”

Jared shifts his eyes to the side and shrugs.

“Well, she seemed nice enough, but she’s not exactly my type. Kind of needed some space, ya know?” He cautiously lifts his gaze to meet the man’s beautiful emerald eyes again. The guy crooks one perfect eyebrow at him in question.

“Not your type?”

“Uh, no. ‘Dyed in the wool homosexual’ this boy is.” Jared ducks his head, only to raise it again in surprise when the gorgeous man lets loose a rich, soul-deep guffaw, laughing with his whole body bent backwards, hands on his stomach and his eyes crinkling at the corners again in delight.

“Dude, Easy A? Nice! Emma Stone kicks ass.”

Jared’s eyes widen in shock - could this guy _be_ any more perfect? The man’s broad grin remains, a flash of Colgate-commercial white as he straightens and reaches his right arm out to introduce himself.

“Jensen. Nice to meet you.”

“Jared. Pleasure’s mine.” Jared grasps Jensen’s hand, just barely stifling a gasp at the solid, warm grip. Jensen squeezes firmly and then pulls away, letting his fingers slide against Jared’s before he returns them to other ( _less important_ , Jared begrudges) tasks behind the bar. Jensen grabs a bottle of water from the smaller fridge hidden under the counter and unscrews the cap, taking a long pull before speaking again.

“Uh, I am too, you know. Gay, that is.” He nervously wipes his mouth after another drink, carefully avoiding Jared’s eyes. Jared just beams up at him, dimples at maximum wattage, and then wraps both his hands around his already nearly empty bottle of beer. _This is definitely turning out to be the best birthday ever_ , he thinks to himself, sighing happily.

“That’s cool, man.”

Jensen looks at him then, something shining in his eyes that Jared can’t quite qualify. Suddenly very thirsty, Jared raises the bottle to his lips and downs the rest, hoping to cover up his excitement at Jensen’s bashful admission, and blissfully counting his good fortune that he has just, in fact, discovered the perfect man. He can sense Jensen’s eyes still on him, tracking the movement of his throat as he swallows, and he feels his cheeks heat up with pleasure from the attention. He returns the empty bottle to the counter and is just starting to search his brain, trying to come up with some way to keep the conversation flowing, when a bright, feminine squeal cuts through the din of the crowded bar, redirecting Jensen’s attention.

“What about the yeti and Yukon Jack over there?” Jensen lifts his chin to point across the room to where Jared’s friends are drinking; Danneel has tucked herself smack in the middle of the largest two - in Jared’s chair, the one that Matt had occupied only minutes before - and seems to be having the time of her life. They’re practically falling over each other, enormous smiles on their faces, and lots of friendly slapping of backs and knees between the three of them as they fight back tears from laughing so hard.

“Oh, you mean Aleks and Tahmoh? Nah, they’re straight - just really good friends.” Jared grins at how much fun they’re having, glad to see that the waitress’s ( _Danneel’s_ ) attentions seem to have permanently shifted, then turns back to Jensen, giving him a wink and following up with, “But they’re _really_ good at sharing.”

Jensen freezes at that, dish towel paused mid-swipe inside the pint glass he’s drying. He stares blankly at the two men and a flush rises high in his cheeks before Jared’s amused laughter startles him from his imaginings and he clears his throat and drops his eyes. His face turns even redder as he tries stuttering out some sort of response, but Jared cuts him off, taking pity, eager to put him at ease.

“Yeah, man, I know, right?” Jared shrugs when Jensen’s eyes fly to his face. “Hey, just ‘cause they’re my friends doesn’t mean I can’t see how hot that is. You’d have to be blind not to see it too; it’s okay. Better forget about it though, ‘cause it’s never gonna happen. Not with me, and certainly not with you.” He pauses, considering. “They like women, they just… they have this thing. Man, I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.” Jared makes a vague gesture - right arm bent at the elbow, palm up and moving in a semi-circle - before he huffs out an awkward laugh and turns his focus to peeling the label off his bottle.

Jensen breathes out a quiet ‘ _fuck_ ’ and shifts uncomfortably in his jeans, his face still flushed, a tiny frown drawing lines between his eyebrows. He gives his head a quick shake and leans forward, setting the glass and towel on the bar and resting his weight on palms pressed flat against the counter. Jared looks up and meets his eyes with a knowing, wry smirk, and Jensen smiles brightly back at him, erasing all traces of embarrassment from his face.

“Well, whaddaya say, Jare’ - time for another drink?”

  


***

  


_Fuck_. If this night ends up even remotely like Jensen hopes it will, he’s gonna owe Danni _big_ time. Her over-the-top attentions worked _precisely_ as he’s sure she knew they would, leaving Jensen staring across the bar at Axl - Jared -, the beautiful man staring right back at him with that unbelievably perfect, dimpled smile.

Jared bows his head in agreement ( _shit, what did I ask him again?_ ) and pushes his empty bottle across the bar ( _oh, right; another drink_ ). Jensen casually tosses the container into the recycling bin with a loud clatter of glass hitting glass, and then he slaps his hands together as though dusting them off. He returns his attention to Jared; he studies him for a moment, sizing him up. Making his decision, he gives a short nod and then pulls the bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label and two tumblers from beneath the counter. Jared’s eyes widen slightly and his smile impossibly brightens, but he voices no dissent.

Jensen is just about to pour their drinks when the three of Jared’s friends who had been playing darts come up to the bar and surround Jared. The kid, Asian-flush staining his cheeks bright pink, plops himself on the stool to Jared’s left, wrapping one arm around Jared’s waist and resting his head against the side of his shoulder with a happy smile. The kingly man with the stunning beard and flowing silver hair flanks Jared’s right side, leaning one elbow on the bar near the taps, while the man who looks like he takes all his fashion tips from the 1940s stops just behind in the center, bringing his hands up to rest on Jared’s shoulders.

“You know it’s my man JT’s birthday today, right?” the dark-haired man drawls with a Texan accent and a smile as he gives a light squeeze to the muscles beneath his fingers. “He’s not allowed to pay for any of his drinks. Isn’t that right fellas?” He turns to his friends; the older man bows his head solemnly, while the kid just hums through his grin in agreement.

“JT, huh?” Jensen looks at Jared with a smirk. “So, what’s the ‘T’ stand for?”

“Why, ‘Trouble’, of course,” rumbles the majestic man in a rich, deep voice; he twists to bring the elbow of his other arm up to the counter and rests his chin on closed fists. He purses his lips and raises an eyebrow while gazing steadily up at Jensen, who really doesn’t know quite what to make of him, so he laughs nervously.

“Well, you don’t need to worry about Jared here. This round’s on me.”

The man immediately rises off his elbows and stands straight again, turning back to the rest of the bar wearing a huge smile as he proclaims with a shout:

“Woo, people, do you hear that? This round’s on the house!” The whole room cheers as Jensen blinks and stutters, looking down at Jared, bewildered by the audacity of his friend. Jared stares back, his mouth hanging open, apparently just as stunned as Jensen. Jared turns to his friend, grabbing him by the arm to bring his attention down to him.

“Tim! You… you know that’s not what he meant! You can’t expect him to pay for shots for the _entire_ bar… !”

Tim just throws back his evil, regal head and cackles heartily. He then lowers his mouth to kiss the top of Jared’s bandanna, and murmurs, in a much quieter voice:

“Of course not, my dear. Of course not.” He then turns back to the bar and, winking with a full smile, casually slides a crisp hundred dollar bill across the counter. “This should help. Well, with most of it at least.” He winks at Jensen again and addresses his companions.

“Come, friends! We’ve much merry to be making!” He claps the handsome Texan on the shoulder to spin him around with him. The kid giggles, clinging to Jared to avoid falling off his stool as he rushes to join them. Jensen stares mutely after them for a moment, mouth gaping wide open in shock, and then drops his gaze back to Jared, still utterly flabbergasted. Jared just half-smiles at him, shrugging his shoulders in easy acceptance of his friends’ shenanigans, awe and amusement glittering in his pretty hazel eyes.

“So… shots?” Jared asks hesitantly. Jensen huffs out a laugh, releasing the breath that had stuck in his chest, and smiles, staring down at his hands on the hard countertop. He just shakes his head.

Danneel returns to the bar almost immediately after Jared’s friend makes his declaration of free drinks. She’s pretty upset, at least until Jensen calms her down enough to let him explain the situation. Before they figure out the logistics of delivering the requested beverages, he introduces her properly to Jared. She has the decency to blush and apologize, sorry if she ‘came on a little strong earlier.’ Though hesitant at first, Jared seems to forgive her pretty readily, and his smile as he shakes her hand is genuine, friendly, without any of the previous hints of caution.

Jensen returns the Black Label and tumblers to their places below the counter (“We’ll save that for later,” he says), and pours three shots of Southern Comfort instead. Danneel toasts with them (“Here’s to birthdays, and to friends - new, old, and all-around crazy.”), the three of them hissing in unison at the burn of the cheaper liquor, before she and Jensen get back to work, opening a new tab for the “free round” and doing their best to deliver the multitude of drinks quickly. They work well as a team, efficient, and it’s not long before they’re both behind the bar once again, wiping sweat from their brows. Danneel slumps against the back counter, staring blankly across the room. Jensen leaves her resting there, making his way to the other end of the bar where Jared still sits, nursing his third beer of the night and chatting quietly with a friend, the square-jawed, fairer one of the ‘Titan-trio’. As Jensen approaches, the man rises from his seat and, with a slight bow to Jensen, swiftly leaves to rejoin the rest of his friends. Jared looks up and greets him with a happy smile.

“Hey, man. Everything okay? Your friend didn’t have to leave on my account,” Jensen questions with a slight frown.

“Yeah, everything’s fine, Jensen. More than fine. Tahmoh was just keeping me company while you two were busy making everyone’s nights.”

“Well, I’m back now, and more than happy to take his place.” Jensen winks and Jared ducks his head, a pleased blush rising in his cheeks. The man is freaking adorable, even with that ridiculous facial hair and bandanna. It’s then that Jensen notices that Jared is wearing his leather jacket, which he definitely hadn't been _before_ Jensen'd had to leave to bring people their free drinks.

“Dude, are you cold or something?” he asks incredulously, indicating the black leather - which, now that he’s giving it due attention, really does amazing things for Jared’s muscular shoulders and arms, the zipper undone, still leaving a tantalizing view of the blue t-shirt pulled tight across his sculpted chest.

“What? Oh, no,” Jared laughs. “Actually, I’m kind of a furnace, man. But Tahmoh mentioned that quite a few of the guys were thinking of heading back to the motel soon, so he brought my jacket over for me. Just seemed like the best way to keep track of it.”

“Ah, got’cha. You’re, uh, not planning on leaving, too, then, are ya?” Jensen holds his breath.

“No! Well, not unless there’s a reason for me to. But I’m really enjoying hanging out,” he replies with a smile that looks… almost hopeful. Jensen maintains eye-contact, doing his best to project with his face that he really feels that way too. Hell, he can think of a few, far more fun ways they could be ‘hanging out’, if only he wasn’t scheduled to work until midnight… 

“Hey babe.” Danneel slinks up to his side, propping a slim arm around his waist and scattering his thoughts. “I was thinkin’, with everyone having fresh drinks now n’all, I’m sure I can handle things for a while. You wanna take a break?” She squeezes his side and grins widely up at him as he turns to stare at her.

“Uh, a break?” he asks dumbly.

“Yeah, sweetie, a break. You know, one of those things where you don’t work for a little while, get to have some _fun_?” She really emphasizes that last word, and Jensen’s previous fantasies return to the forefront of his thoughts in a rush. He widens his eyes at her, and she just gives him a sassy little wink, quirking one corner of her red lips up in a knowing smirk.

“Danni… I think I love you,” he breathes out, in awe of his best friend’s wisdom and not-so-subtle suggestion. She throws her head back, tossing her glorious hair, and laughs delightedly at him. With one more squeeze at his side, she pecks him quickly on the cheek and then turns, heading to the opposite end of the bar.

“Oh, sweetie, I _know_ you do,” she sing-songs at him over her retreating shoulder.

Jensen turns, smiling excitedly at Jared, only to have his happiness drop drastically at the frown marring Jared’s features.

“Jared, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“So now _you’re_ going to leave?” he asks, clearly hurt. Jensen immediately starts shaking his head, untying the apron from around his waist and draping it on a hook behind the bar as he moves around to the other side of the counter to stand beside Jared.

“Jared, no! Well, yes, but… not leaving _you_. Not if you don’t want me to.” Tentative, he reaches out and brushes his hand down Jared’s left arm, swiping his thumb over Jared’s knuckles when he reaches the warm skin. He looks up to meet Jared’s eyes, no longer dimmed by the sadness of a moment ago, once again shining with that hope from before, and quickly filling with something deeper, darker… something _more_. Something that makes Jensen _want_ , and want _now_. He fumbles, getting a firmer grip on Jared’s hand, and tugs it gently towards him. Breathless again, he asks, “Will you come on break with me, Axl?”

Jared gasps, rising immediately from his stool, the increase to his height over Jensen making him just _that_ much more alluring.

“Yes. _Fuck_ yes. Jensen - lead the way.”

Jensen spins around, dragging an eager Jared behind him, and walks them past the bar towards the storage room in back - the perfect place for what he has in mind - his heart nearly beating out of his chest in anticipation, and Jared’s hand warm where it’s clasped tightly with his.

  


***

  


As soon as the boys round the corner, her best friend’s intentions painfully obvious to her keen mind, Danneel is at the bar’s landline phone, calling their friend and part-time/emergency night shift cover-er, Misha. Danneel may have played her part to get Jensen exactly what he wanted, but she has plans of her own, too. It’s not too late yet, just a little after ten, and Misha picks up after the second ring.

“What do you want?” he answers, probably grumpy that she’s interrupted some documentary he’s watching or something.

“Aw, don’t be like that babe. Can’t I just call to talk?”

“Not on a Saturday night when I know you’re scheduled to work until close, no, you can’t. Again, I ask, what do you want?”

“Okay, fine,” she whines, then gets right to the point. “I need you to come in.”

“Aren’t you and Jensen both working tonight? Did something happen?”

Danneel can hear suspicion and worry warring in his voice, but it doesn’t matter. She’ll get what she wants in the end.

“Well, yes… and no. And it’s about what is _going_ to happen that I need your help for, babe, please.”

Misha sighs heavily, and Danneel knows she’s won.

“And what, dare I ask, is _going_ to happen?”

“Bikers,” she responds immediately, intentionally brief in her explanation. To herself though, she mentally adds ‘ _Big, hulking, dead-sexy bikers!_ ’ If Misha were here and could see them, he’d understand.

“What??” There’s the sound of shuffling on the other end of the phone as Misha rushes to put on pants, jumping to the worst conclusion, just as Danneel had intended.

“Yeah, you’d better get here soon, there’s actually quite a few of them. And most of them make even Jensen look small. In fact, he’s dealing with one of the larger ones right now.” She giggles silently to herself at the joke; she knows Misha’s going to be _so_ pissed when he finds out she misled him, but he’ll forgive her. He always does. And she’ll be sure to make it up to him somehow. She always does.

“Okay, I’m on my way. Be there in five.”

“Thanks, babe, you’re the _best_!” she responds brightly, perhaps a tad overly cheerful, but she hangs up before he has a chance to respond. Turning back to scan the relatively quiet barroom, she meets Aleks’ eyes and signals him with a very enthusiastic two thumbs up. He grins, his smile a mile wide, as he leans over to speak directly in Tahmoh’s ear, patting him on the back. Tahmoh looks over at her with a smile just as wide, and winks; then both men hurry to finish their beers, gathering their jackets as they leave the table together.

Danneel is beaming as she closes their tabs. They pay their bills, each adding _very_ generous tips, and then they go hang out where their other friends are still gathered as they wait for her to be ready to join them.

Danneel is so… excited is an understatement. Her heart flutters with the thrill of the promise that the night holds. To retain her sanity while counting down the minutes until her night _really_ gets fun, she starts mixing a large batch of Moscow Mules, knowing they’re Misha’s favorite. She can’t begin repaying him nearly soon enough.

  


***

  


The instant the door to the storage closet clicks shut behind Jared, he finds himself slammed right into the beginning of every cliched, impassioned wall-sex scene Hollywood has ever produced when Jensen grabs him by the shoulders and practically throws him against the wall, pushing him back into the rough brick as he presses his body hard along the length of Jared’s. He crushes their lips together, licking his way inside Jared’s mouth. Everything is happening hot and heavy and even better than Jared imagined it would. Jensen’s arms have moved to Jared’s chest where he’s clutching fistfuls of his shirt right at the collar, pulling himself inexorably closer, rising up on the pads of his feet to align their bodies _just_ right. Jared captures Jensen’s tongue mid-thrust and Jensen groans into Jared’s mouth as Jared sucks on the muscle like he’s making a home for it in the back of his throat. He brings his hands up to Jensen’s waist and _lifts_ , grinding their trapped cocks together in a vertical slide that makes him lose his grip on Jensen’s tongue, giving way to panted curses and sloppy kisses along Jensen’s face and neck.

With apparent effort, Jensen pulls away, wrenching a few inches of space between their bodies, chests heaving and both of them struggling to intake sufficient oxygen. His hands are still twisted in Jared’s shirt; when he’s able to tear his eyes away from Jared’s spit-slick lips for a moment, he notices the rumpled fabric and unclenches his fists, smoothing his hands over Jared’s pecs, attempting to straighten the sweat-soaked wrinkles. The brief respite allows both men to catch their breath, but it does nothing to assuage the swelling of their desire, and when Jensen returns his gaze to Jared’s face, the heat is still evident in the lust-blown darkness of his eyes.

“God, Jared, I… _fuck_ ,” Jensen starts, rather elegantly. Jared releases a huff of laughter as he looks down at Jensen, adorably - gorgeously - ruffled, and waits for him to continue, though he keeps his hands firmly planted at Jensen’s sides, rubbing slow circles with his thumbs under his shirt at the indents of his hips. Jensen takes a moment, considers, and then reaches forward to the wall behind Jared’s left shoulder to flip on the light switch there. The single bulb now illuminating the room is rather dim, and the additional light is not overly harsh. It is enough to bring a bit more clarity to Jensen’s features though, and Jared welcomes the faint yellow glow for that reason alone. It must have a similar effect for Jensen, because he brings both his hands up to frame Jared’s face, and his eyes are roving hungrily over every inch.

“You know,” he begins again, “I loved Axl Rose as much as the next guy… probably more so, all things considered… but I was a much bigger fan of him _without_ the facial hair. You know this is a truly awful look, right?” He scratches the tips of his fingers along the stubble on Jared’s cheeks and then trails them over the slightly longer hair of his mustache and down along the sides of his mouth as he meets Jared’s gaze, his own eyes sparkling with a heady mix of amusement and, still, desire. Jared chuckles darkly, about to give some smart reply about how Jensen’s not exactly wrong, when Jensen’s attention is drawn slightly down and he brings one thumb to swipe across the dip in Jared’s chin.

“And yet… man, does it do things to me. Really accentuates… _this_.” He shifts his hand, bringing his index finger to rub along the stubbled cleft instead, moving it closer to Jared’s mouth with every upward stroke. “It really, _really_ gives me ideas.” He stops just as the tip taps against Jared’s bottom lip, and he rests it there for only a moment before he pushes it inside the wet heat of Jared’s mouth, his eyes darkened and absolutely transfixed. His breath hitches when Jared swirls his tongue around the digit, eagerly cataloging yet another piece of Jensen. Then Jared grins, gently trapping Jensen’s finger between his teeth before kissing the pad delicately and then releasing it, moving his head back to rest against the wall, his gaze smoldering hot as he stares steadily down at Jensen.

“Ideas, huh? I like the sound of that. Care to share with the class?”

Jensen looks up at Jared with an expression that could melt the ice caps, all traces of the gorgeous green Jared had earlier admired totally eclipsed by pupils fully blown. With a raised brow and one corner of his mouth twisted up in an absolutely sinful smirk, Jensen sets both his hands on Jared’s shoulders and pushes down with a gentle yet insistent pressure.

“How about I just show you?”

If Jared hadn’t already gotten the hint and started moving from Jensen’s subtle press on his shoulders, his knees would have collapsed from the wave of _want_ that hit him with those words alone. He pushes away from the wall a fraction, just enough space to lower himself before Jensen. It’s a bit awkward with the unforgiving brick so close at his back, but he manages to arrange himself so he is kneeling with his ankles crossed behind him and the soles of his shoes pressed flat against the wall. He rests his open hands palms down on his slightly spread thighs and looks up at Jensen, utterly relaxed and willingly submissive, and he waits.

  


***

  


When Jensen had first grabbed Jared’s hand to bring him back here, he’d been, to say the least, extremely turned on and ramped up from anticipation. About halfway to the storage room though, his nerves had started to override his lust-fueled courage, and he acted a _bit_ more aggressively than he may have intended. As soon as his lips met Jared’s and his hands were on his chest though, he just couldn’t help it. Being that close to Jared was intoxicating, and Jensen was immediately hooked. He’d pulled away and turned on the light because he really didn’t (doesn’t) want this thing between them to just be some mindless fuck in a dingy backroom. He likes Jared, wants to see him, doesn’t want it to feel like he’s hiding them, or ashamed of what they’re doing.

Then, under the soft glow of the single bulb, he’d been distracted by Jared’s undeniably beautiful face, gorgeous even with that ridiculous beard. His attention had been drawn to the cleft in Jared’s chin, and he couldn’t (can’t) stop imagining his cock there, rutting up against that stubbled groove instead of his finger, begging for entrance into that sinful mouth. And now, he has Jared _exactly_ where he wants him, and it’s even better than he’d dared to hope.

The sight of Jared on his knees before him is almost overwhelming - the way he’d followed his silent instruction so immediately, so eagerly, so _perfectly_ \- and Jensen has to press a palm to his crotch and close his eyes tightly for a moment. His other hand is still resting on Jared’s shoulder, and he sways minutely closer towards him as he attempts to regain his composure. He gasps loudly and his whole body shudders when he feels the warm swipe of Jared’s tongue across the knuckles of the hand clenched over his trapped cock.

“ _Jared_ ,” he croaks brokenly, opening his eyes a fraction to look down at the guilelessly attractive man before him. Jared kisses the back of Jensen’s hand once with his puffy, pink, kiss-bitten lips and then tilts his head to stare up at Jensen. His eyes are a fascinating study - color-changing, with flecks of gold swimming in a sea currently more of a blue-brown than hazel; not that there’s really much color to be seen at the moment, as his pupils are quickly eating up all available real estate, the _want_ in them clearly evident.

“Guh. You’re so goddamned beautiful, Jay, ya know that? Here, let me see you.” Jensen removes the hand from his groin, bringing it to rest on the fabric covering Jared’s head instead. He smoothes his palm over the crown, swiping away the wannabe rock-star’s bandanna with it. Luscious locks spring free, revealing a shiny chestnut mane that could give Danneel’s meticulously maintained tresses a run for its money. Layers accentuate Jared’s high cheekbones and flirt with his dimples, framing his face in gentle waves formed by warmth and sweat. The effect is stunning, softening his whole appearance and rendering him nothing short of exquisite. “ _So_ fuckin’ beautiful.”

Jensen lifts his other hand to run his fingers through the silky strands, massaging Jared’s temple with his thumbs at every pass. Jared moans in pleasure, leaning into Jensen’s touch and closing his eyes, practically purring at the feeling. Jensen combs his fingers through a few more times, using blunt nails to scratch lightly at Jared’s scalp. Jared is so into it, he raises his hands to Jensen’s hips to keep his balance.

“ _Yes_ , touch me; _Jared_ , please. Want you to.” Now it’s Jensen’s turn to moan as Jared’s thumbs resume their circular pattern over his hip bones underneath his shirt. Jared tilts forward and noses at Jensen’s cock, straining to escape the thick denim, and Jensen groans again. “Yes, like that, _please_.”

Jared chuckles a little and pulls back only slightly to look up at Jensen. Jensen stills his hands, but they remain deeply tangled in Jared’s hair. Jared’s voice is rough with lust when he speaks.

“When you said you had an idea, did it by any chance have anything to do with me sucking you off? Because I’d really, really like to do that.”

Jensen’s knees nearly give out as he nods fervently. 

“God, yes, please.”

Jared swoops forward with the permission, gorgeously long, nimble fingers lifting the hem of Jensen’s shirt so he can mouth along the waistband of his jeans. He spreads his fingers apart, his hands huge against Jensen’s torso, rucking the shirt further up as he reaches underneath to play over his ribs, tease at his nipples. Jensen gasps when Jared twists the hardened nubs, briefly distracting him from where Jared’s clever tongue is circling his belly-button. Dull fingernails scritch their way back down his sides as Jared bites gently into the fleshier parts of Jensen’s stomach. When his hands again reach the edge of his pants, they move towards center, towards where Jensen is hard and aching, and every moment more desperate to be touched, consumed. Jared’s deft fingers quickly unbuckle his belt and pop open the button of his fly, instantly relieving some of the pressure on his straining cock. Jared leans back on his haunches to look up at Jensen’s face as he slowly lowers the zipper with his right hand, the thumb of his left again rubbing gentle circles into his hip. Jensen struggles to keep his eyes open, to watch Jared watching him - it’s a sight he really, _really_ doesn’t want to miss, not for one moment.

Finally, _finally_ the zipper reaches the end of its journey, and with a slight shifting of fabric, Jensen’s cock springs free, popping through the hole in his boxers and practically drooling with want for attention. Jared’s eyes darken, irises completely eclipsed now, as he regards him, hungrily, like Jensen’s dick is the only item on an all-you-can-eat buffet and Jared’s already looking forward to seconds. He bends down, positioning his mouth _just_ close enough to dart out his tongue for a quick taste, one short lick along the leaking slit. Jensen gasps and jerks his hips forward, gently jabbing into the soft side of Jared’s face and smearing a line of precome across his stubbled cheek. Jared angles his body away for a moment, just as long as it takes to pull the elastic waistband of Jensen’s boxers up and over his cock and then slide both his underwear and jeans down below his ass, leaving him completely exposed for Jared’s ministrations. Jensen is distracted by the glistening white strand of liquid clinging to Jared’s goatee, and it reminds him of his earlier fantasy.

“Jared, wait.” At some point, Jensen had moved his hands from Jared’s head to brace his arms against the wall behind him. Now he reaches down to grasp at Jared’s shoulders and push him away gently. He reads the confusion in Jared’s eyes and shakes his head fondly at him, smiling softly. “You’re perfect, babe, seriously. I just - remember that idea I had?” Jared nods, attention rapt. “Just, let me for a few moments, okay?”

Jared gives an almost imperceptible jerk of his head to show his understanding, and he resumes his stance from before, resting on his haunches, but keeping his long torso held straight, arms draped loosely on his own thighs. He gazes up at Jensen with that same look of absolute trust, completely open to whatever Jensen wants, whatever he needs.

“So good for me, Jared, so perfect.” He can’t help murmuring his praise; he is so in awe of the man before him. Leaving his left hand gently squeezing at Jared’s shoulder, Jensen brings his right hand up to wrap around the base of his cock. Slowly, he inches himself towards Jared’s face until the head is pressed blissfully against Jared’s slightly parted lips. When Jared makes as though to open his mouth, Jensen quickly ‘ _ah-ah-ah_ ’s to stop him.

“Just stay still for a minute; wanna try something.”

Jared blinks at him, but makes no further movement. As he’d done with his finger several minutes ago, Jensen pulls back with his cock and rubs the length of it along the groove in Jared’s chin, each pass brushing the crown over the plush swell of Jared’s lips. The sight of his cock rutting along that subtle hollow is even more amazing than the imagining of it, but Jensen only lasts a few strokes before he has to pull away, withdrawing entirely… and starts _giggling_. He can’t help himself - it _tickles_! He’s still holding himself with his right hand, and his left is still gripping Jared’s shoulder, but his whole body is shaking from the sensation and in amusement at himself.

“Didn’t quite feel the way you expected it to, huh?” Jared chuckles along with him. He’s smiling, mouth twisted into a smirk, and his eyes are shining with shared mirth. Jensen takes in large gulps of air, can only nod his head in agreement as he fights to get control of himself. Thankfully, Jared is not at all deterred by the turn in events - in the next moment, all the laughter is sucked from Jensen’s lungs as Jared leans forward and swallows the entire length of Jensen into his mouth.

“Oh my _god_. Fuck, Jared!” Jensen cries out in utter shock and overwhelming pleasure at suddenly being encompassed by such glorious, wet, perfect heat. Jared bobs forward and back, each time taking Jensen deeper into his throat. Jensen feels like he is unable to properly intake air, as Jared keeps punching it out of him with every suck. Jared’s hands are at work again, too, one gripping the meat of Jensen’s ass, then alternately caressing over the crease to flirt fingers at his hole, the other stroking and gently rolling his balls in one wide palm. When Jared starts curling his tongue around Jensen’s shaft and swirling it over the bundle of nerves just beneath the crown, Jensen knows he’s not going to last much longer. With a sound that’s part crying out, part groan, Jensen frantically grabs at Jared’s shoulders and neck, fingers scrabbling for purchase and tangling in his hair.

“Jare’, I’m gonna, gonna… !” Jensen clamps down, digging his fingers into the muscles of Jared’s neck, and bites his bottom lip beneath sharp teeth; he tries pulling away out of habit, but Jared just reels him in closer with his mouth and hands. One more moment of perfect suction and Jensen comes with a shout, shooting hard and fast down Jared’s throat. Jared just nuzzles his nose at the base of Jensen’s cock, rolling in synch with the stuttering rhythm of his jerking hips, and swallows every last ounce of Jensen’s release.

As soon as his spent cock has slipped free from Jared’s fucking heavenly mouth, Jensen collapses to his knees with a loud thud. The pain doesn’t even register though, because he’s flying so high on endorphins, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever come back down. Jared gathers him to his chest, cradling him in his strong, leather-clad arms. He’s kissing and mumbling lovely things - ‘so fuckin’ gorgeous, so good, letting me have you like that’ - against Jensen’s forehead. After a moment or two of just lying limply against Jared, Jensen regains a smidgen of strength; he brings his own arms to wrap around Jared’s waist, and he pulls back, capturing Jared’s beautiful, perfect lips with his own. He nips and licks at them lazily until Jared opens up and lets him inside. Jensen roves everywhere with his tongue, tasting himself against every surface of Jared’s mouth, and he shudders at the memory of how amazing it was to have been buried so intimately deep inside.

Jensen angles slightly and pushes in even further with his tongue, bringing his hands up to cup around Jared’s neck and pull him closer, increasing the heat behind the kiss. Next thing he knows, he finds himself trying to climb into Jared’s lap, which proves to be difficult for two reasons: one, Jared is still kneeling upright, and therefore has no lap of which to speak; two, Jensen’s pants are still pulled down around his thighs, rendering any of his attempts not only rather futile, but also fairly, well, awkward. Jensen’s sex-muddled brain is not to be hindered, though; he simply, if weakly, pulls his pants over his ass and tucks himself in. Then, mainly put back together, he resumes petting and pawing at Jared’s face, and rubbing his hypersensitive crotch against the majorly impressive wood that Jared is still sporting. _Wait… shit!_

“Shit, Jared!” Jensen reels back, absolutely appalled that, orgasm-induced haze or not, he totally left Jared hanging. And on his _birthday_ , of all days. Jared just regards him curiously, looking a bit dazed himself, titling his head sideways at him as if he can’t possibly understand what’s got Jensen so upset.

“I… I… oh my god, Jared! I’m so sorry. Man, I _swear_ I’m not usually this selfish. Shit, and I have to get back to work soon, and… fuck!” Jensen starts fumbling at Jared’s belt, determined to do his absolute best by him in the short time they have left before Jensen’s break ends. He’s gotten as far as releasing the buckle when strong hands are suddenly grabbing his wrists and pulling them up and away. Jensen looks up to meet Jared’s gaze, feeling absolutely terrible for the situation he’s put them in. Jared is breathing heavily, his eyes as dark with desire as when they’d first entered the room. He darts his tongue across his lips, closes his eyes briefly while he takes in a deep, calming breath, and opens them again to stare at Jensen. The heat in his gaze is somewhat tempered, but it’s still apparent beneath the surface. Jensen stares up at him helplessly with a distressed frown on his face.

“Jensen. Hey, it’s okay.” Jared bends forward, his hands still grasping Jensen’s wrists, holding them close to his chest, and kisses Jensen’s forehead sweetly. Jensen’s eyelids flutter shut as he leans into the caress and draws a shuddering breath. “I still really enjoyed myself. It’s fine that you have to get back to work. We can continue this later, right?”

Jensen darts his eyes back to Jared’s, surprise and gratitude washing over him. _How is he not mad? I’d be pissed if I was left to deal with blue balls_. Then Jared’s question registers. Fuck later, Jensen wants to continue this _now_.

“ _Fuck_ later. Wanna keep going now.” His declaration starts out strong, but ends on sort of a whine. He _does_ still have to work, afterall. His brain starts coming back online, working double-time to figure out a solution that will allow him to stay with Jared from now until, preferably, the rest of the night.

“Hmm,” he ponders, “I might be able to convince Danni to work the rest of the shift for me. But it’s _your_ birthday, man, so it’s up to you. Whatever you want to do, you got it,” he promises, fully intent to make up for his careless oversight. Jared pulls him in close again, brushing his lips lightly over his in a delicious, teasing drag that makes Jensen’s cock perk up with renewed interest.

“Well, you’ve been the one with all the ideas tonight. I think I’m good with doing whatever you want. One… suggestion though? I’ve got a room at the motel all to myself - might be a bit more comfortable than some storage closet.” He winks at Jensen with a small smirk that, really, shouldn’t be nearly as sexy underneath that awful goatee as it actually is.

“Fuck yeah, that’ll work. And I know exactly what we can do, because what _I_ want… “ Jensen leans over to lick the pre-come off Jared’s face, tracing the line up his jaw until he reaches the shell of Jared’s ear. He gently shakes one arm free of Jared’s grip and slides his hand down Jared’s toned abs to cup his straining erection, stroking over the length through the restrictive denim and feeling it jump underneath his fingers. He bites and licks at Jared’s earlobe, then blows a soft puff of warm air over the wet skin. Jared’s breath hitches and then lets loose on a wrecked groan, and Jensen smiles, pleased with himself, before continuing.

“What _I_ want… is to follow you and your sinfully _gorgeous_ body back to your room... let you open me up with your fingers, your tongue, whatever your pleasure - and then get your fucking _monster_ cock as deep inside me as fucking possible and ride you until we’re both screaming. And _then_... I want to do it again. Sound good, birthday boy?”

Jared’s eyes are screwed shut; his hips are rocking into each of Jensen’s strokes, and he’s sweating profusely, absolutely drenched. Jensen licks a stripe of the salty sheen off his face and hums happily at the taste, pure Jared dancing on his tastebuds and filling his nostrils. Jensen taps his forehead against Jared’s temple and stops his hand’s movements when he doesn’t get a response. Jared whines softly at the loss of friction, but he opens his eyes to glance sideways at Jensen.

“Well, Axl? Whaddaya say?”

“Hell yeah.” Jared crushes his mouth to Jensen’s, showing him with lips and teeth and tongue just _exactly_ how much he likes the idea. Jensen returns the kiss passionately for a few moments before pulling away, rocking back on his heels and pushing himself up until he’s standing.

“No better time to start than the present, yeah?” He holds his hand out to Jared, who readily accepts it and lets him help him up, only wincing slightly as his knees pop. “Let’s go see if Danni will take pity on us."

Jared dusts off his pants, wipes a perfunctory hand over his beard in an attempt at tidiness. Jensen adjusts himself and zips his jeans, buckles his belt, then reaches over to do the same to Jared, making sure to ‘accidentally’ brush over the impressive bulge still present. Jared groans in pleasure and then swats Jensen’s hand away with a short huff of laughter.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, man. Come on, let’s get out of here. I’m gonna die of blue balls _and_ heatstroke if we don’t leave this room soon.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want that. I’ll get you out of here… and get you out of a lot more than just that jacket once we get to your room.” Jensen winks and smiles broadly at Jared, more than a little turned on again, but still just, simply, _enjoying_ Jared’s presence, too. _Definitely more than just a one night stand_ , he dares to hope as he again snags Jared’s hand, intertwining their fingers, and they slip quietly out of the closet together.

  


***

  


Jared and Jensen exit the storage room and sneak back around the counter into the main bar area to find a much quieter scene than when they’d left to take Jensen’s ‘break’. There’s probably about half as many people now, most of them seated at the bar where they’re being served by a brilliantly blue-eyed man, his short, dark hair styled to stick up messily in every direction. He’s dressed in a _loud_ Hawaiian shirt - hot pink hibiscus and neon green leaves - dark jeans, and flip flops. Jensen stalks up to him as Jared hovers near the end of the bar, scanning the rest of the room to notice that most of his friends have left, too. Only Tim, Rich, and Matt remain, huddled around one of the round tables, some sort of card game keeping them intensely occupied. Jared has just enough time to wonder where Danneel went, when Jensen returns. The stranger behind the bar catches Jared’s eye and smiles charmingly, giving him a cheerful wink and and a cheeky nod before returning his attention to his customers.

“So, who’s that guy? What happened to Danneel?” Jared darts his eyes back to the man now tending bar.

“Oh, that’s Misha. Takes shifts for us every now and then. I guess Danneel wanted to take off early too, so she called him in.”

“And… any particular reason why he winked at me?” The guy seemed friendly enough from a distance, but Jared isn’t really sure what to think of the man’s attention. “Did he say something to you about me, or… ?”

Jensen grabs a small black bag - it looks like a shaving kit? - from a cubby at the end of the bar and turns back to Jared with a laugh.

“Nah, that’s just Misha being Misha. Although, he did tell me a rather amusing story about why Danneel called him. Apparently she let him think that there was a big crowd of troublesome bikers that we needed help ‘handling’.” He chuckles again, shaking his head. “From what he told me, seems like Danneel has the ‘handling’ part taken care of well enough on her own. Sounds like she left with your two giant friends.”

Jared’s eyes widen a bit, but he’s not really surprised.

“Well, like I said - they _do_ like to share. I’m sure she’s in good… hands… ”

Jensen throws his head back and laughs loudly at that.

“Oh yes, I’m sure. And given the way she was checking them out when you guys got here, I’m sure she's in seventh heaven right now. Bit of a size kink, that one. I’m sure I’ll hear about it later.”

Jared lifts an eyebrow in silent question.

“She’s been my best friend for a long time now. Trust me, I hear about _everything_.” Jensen surveys the bar one last time, patting his pockets and double-checking that he has his little bag, then crooks his elbow, offering it to Jared with a grin.

"Shall we?"

Jared laughs. It feels ridiculous, but it fits the mood. Rather than accept Jensen’s escort, however, he just slips his arm around Jensen’s back, his hand resting low on Jensen’s waist, just above the swell of his perfect ass - which Jared is _totally_ checking out now that he knows he’s being given an all-access pass. As they step outside into the blessedly cool air, Jared lowers his hand to get a nice handful of Jensen’s butt, which makes him squirm a little, but he doesn’t move away. If anything, Jensen leans more into Jared’s side as they walk the short distance across the pavement towards the line of rooms beside the road.

It’s a clear, inky-dark night, with a refreshing breeze that lifts Jared’s hair away from his face and cools his overheated skin. He glances up towards the sky and halts suddenly, tightening his grip on Jensen to keep him by his side. The stars spread wide over the velvet darkness, sparkling like so many diamonds, and Jared can’t help but stand there in awe. He is blown away by the absolute perfection that this year’s birthday has been - and it isn’t even over yet. He looks back down into Jensen's eyes to see the stars reflected in their depths, and Jared is certain that he’s never witnessed anything more beautiful in all his thirty years of life. Even knowing what promises lie behind the door of his motel room, a part of him wants to stay suspended in this moment forever. But then, Jensen rises up on his tip-toes to press a lingering kiss to his mouth, and Jared changes his mind - _this_ is the moment he would choose to live in, could such an eternity exist. He loses himself in the kiss, letting his eyes fall closed, opening to Jensen’s delving tongue, and gripping the fabric of Jensen’s shirt tightly, hauling him ever closer to his side.

As the kiss deepens, Jared’s cock reminds him that there is some unfinished business that needs attending to; reluctantly, he pulls away from Jensen and his lush lips, smiling down at him and once again steering him towards his room. Jared was fortunate enough to book the suite at the very end of the motel, just a single wall shared with one neighbor. Jared fumbles only a little as he fishes the key from his pocket and unlocks the door, Jensen pressing close behind him, his cock hard again and nestled in the curve of Jared’s ass. Jared hurries to open the door and switches on the small lamp by the entrance, illuminating the plain walls in a soft yellow glow. Jensen pushes past him into the room, strolling right up to the nightstand and placing his little black bag next to the red-numbered alarm clock.

“Stuff,” he elaborates with a wide grin, retrieving a packet of condoms and a bottle of lube from within its leather depths, giving the items a jaunty little shake as he sets them on the bed. Jared’s eyes roll back in his head as he shuts and locks the door behind him, groaning as his cock jumps in eager anticipation. He leans back against the closed door, just resting for a moment, trying to rein himself in so he doesn’t go shooting off like a rocket the second anything more physical happens.

Jensen toes off his shoes then pads over to Jared, stopping less than a foot away. He cups Jared’s face in his hands and rises up to press a lingering kiss to his lips. Then he runs his hands down Jared’s neck, under his jacket and across his shoulders, working to help him out of the stifling leather.

“Told you I was gonna get you out of this jacket, didn’t I sweetheart.”

Jared nods mutely in agreement, his heart latching onto the endearment and tucking it safely away.

“Yeah, you did,” he breathes out as the jacket falls away. Jensen sets it carefully on the chair behind the cheap little desk, then runs his hands up Jared’s exposed arms, eyes following as he traces over every twist and turn of sculpted muscle, seemingly enthralled at the shape of them. When his fingers reach the hem of Jared’s sleeves, he runs the tips of his nails lightly over his pecs, just tripping over hardened nipples and a harder torso, lighting at the bottom hem of the shirt before he gathers it in his hands and lifts, encouraging its journey up and over Jared’s head. Jared stands still as Jensen takes in his fill of the sight of him, eyes roaming hungrily over every inch. Jared knows what he looks like, the effect his body has on people, but all the attention from any one of those others has never meant anywhere near what Jensen’s gaze does to him now. After a few moments, he clears his throat and reaches towards Jensen.

“Come on, Jen, now you.” Before Jared can get a proper grip on his shirt though, Jensen breaks free of his trance and dashes away, a mischievous grin lighting up his face. He tears his own shirt over his head in a well-practiced move, leaving miles of gorgeous, tanned and freckled skin proudly on display. Jared mentally updates his list of most beautiful sights, putting Jensen’s nearly-naked body very, _very_ close to the top.

“You want it? Come and get it, big boy,” Jensen teases as he reaches down to begin undoing his fly. Jared shucks his own shoes and steps out of his jeans, practically growling in response to Jensen’s challenge.

“Oh, I’m coming, and I’ll get it. You can count on it.” As he tackles a laughing Jensen to the bed and silences him with a desperately needy, absolutely _hungry_ kiss, he thinks he’s never been happier. He has a beautiful, willing man in his arms, in his bed...and possibly already even in his heart. _Happy birthday to me_ , he smiles, as their night truly begins.

  


***

  


“Rob!” Richard pounds on his motel room door. “Buddy! Open up, bro-sef!”

He weaves on the doorstep slightly; perhaps those two shots of tequila at closing time hadn’t been the best idea on top of the serving of scotch he’d enjoyed while playing cards with Tim and Matt. He waves drunkenly to Tim and Matt as they slip into their respective rooms at the other end of the building and then regards his own door accusingly when it still hasn’t opened.

“Knew I shouldn’t have let him take the key,” he grumbles, then shouts again. “ROBBIE!”

He’s just raising his fist to hammer against the stubborn door again, when suddenly it’s swung open.

“Well, it’s about fuckin’ time… !” Richard’s voice cuts off immediately when he looks up and registers - that person who answered the door is most _definitely_ not Rob Benedict. Not unless he’s suddenly developed breasts, grew out and colored his hair, and gained about three inches in height. ‘ _Nope_ ,’ Richard thinks as he blatantly checks out the very feminine and decidedly not-Rob figure in front of him, _‘definitely not Robbie. Unless he’s suddenly become the most lucky bastard on the planet…_ ’

The woman at the door is wearing a wide, white, cat-like grin, a giant leather jacket ( _that looks suspiciously like Aleks’_ , Richard’s fuzzled brain provides), three-inch heels… and not much else. Richard gets stuck, nearly in a trance, staring at her long - so, so, long - legs, so gorgeous, and nude, and… _‘Richard! You’re a married man - pull yourself together!’_

“Are you lost, sweetheart?” The stunningly beautiful woman gazes steadily at him with sparkling eyes that Richard focuses on, desperately trying to keep his eyes from wandering lower again.

“I, uh… I…” he stutters, having a difficult time remembering why he is standing outside at all. As he stumbles to recall what his reason for knocking had been, two men dressed only in sweatpants appear behind the woman, both of their chiseled chests bare.

“Richard! You alright there, buddy?” Aleks asks, resting one large hand on - ‘ _oh my lanta - was that their waitress from the bar?’_ \- the woman’s leather-clad shoulder.

Tahmoh steps around the woman - Danielle? Dannie? - wrapping one arm around her waist and gripping her closely to him.

“I believe you’re just off by one door, my friend.” Tahmoh supplies in his soothing voice. “Do you require assistance getting into your room?”

Tahmoh makes as though to move to his aid, but Richard holds out both hands, begging him off.

“No, no, my mistake. I’m sure I can manage.” Richard avoids looking any of them in the eyes. “You kids have fun now, don’t mind me.”

Tahmoh nods solemnly, Aleks grins broadly at him, and Danneel (?) gives a little wave with the polished fingers of one slim hand. Richard bows his head curtly and spins on his heel, his face flaming beneath his beard, and he stumbles one room further down the line. He hears the door click shut behind him as he raises his fist to knock on (hopefully) the door to his own damn room.

“Robbie! Open up!”

The door opens almost immediately, Rob looking up at him with tired eyes and a small frown on his cute little face.

“Dude! It was _unlocked_. I was almost asleep!”

Richard just pushes past him, bumping into the frame and several walls on the way to falling face first onto his bed.

“How was I s’posed to know that?” he mumbles into the comforter.

“Ugh, whatever. Just go to sleep.” Rob locks the door and turns off the main light, kicking at Richard’s boots where they hang off the mattress as he passes by to return to his own bed.

A few moments of silence in the darkness pass before certain sounds start to seep through the wall behind their heads. It sounds suspiciously like… _porn_ , Richard’s not-nearly-drunk-enough brain supplies. The noises grow louder and louder, and it soon becomes apparent that whatever is going on is _not_ coming from a tv screen. Richard groans in mental anguish; this is not the first time this has happened, but it really, _really_ doesn’t get any easier to bear with repetition.

About the time that a loud ‘ _thump thump thump_ ’ing noise starts coming from the wall on the _other_ side of their room, Richard weakly grabs for one of his pillows and stuffs it over his head, regretting that he hadn’t thought to have two _more_ shots of tequila before returning to his room.

Neither he nor Rob get any sleep until the noises stop in the very, _very_ wee hours of the morning.

  


***

  


A few short hours after finally succumbing to sleep, Jensen wakes to the muffled buzzing of an electric razor. He rubs the sleep from his eyes with his fists, then blinks blearily around the empty motel room as he attempts to re-acclimate to his surroundings. The sun is peeking through the cheap blinds, though the room remains decently dim; Jensen glances at the alarm clock on the nightstand - ‘9:38’ it announces in numbers of bright neon. The door to the bathroom is cracked open, a yellow fissure of light slicing a path across the gray, low-pile carpet and landing on Jensen’s bare feet where they stick out from under the cheap white sheets. The sound of the razor sharply cutting off shakes Jensen from his tired observations and he’s suddenly wide awake. _Jared_.

Jensen moves to sit up and lets out a groan as the sore muscles of his ass protest in a way that is fairly painful… yet also incredibly arousing as he remembers the cause of that delicious ache. Fuck if he hadn’t been right about Jared having a monster cock. And the man knows how to use it, too. Jensen drops back against the pillows with a moan, the memory sending blood rushing to his own dick, making him almost unbearably hard in a matter of seconds. He’s just brought one of his hands down to stroke himself, try to relieve some of the pressure, when the bathroom light flips off and the door opens, and then Jared himself steps back into the room.

Jensen gasps loudly and tightens his grip, stopping his movements and squeezing painfully as his dick hardens even more. Jared pauses and looks him up and down appraisingly.

“Is that for me?” he smirks, openly staring at Jensen’s straining erection for a moment before slowly tracking upwards to view the rest of his body. The sheets cover him up to his hips, but his entire upper body is naked and presented to Jared’s hungry eyes. Jensen shivers under the attention and his cock jumps in excitement.

“Sure,” he manages to pant out, utterly pinned by the heat in Jared’s gaze. Jared reaches the bed in one long-legged stride. He sits on the edge, just beside Jensen’s knees, and brings one hand to rest on Jensen’s calf where the sheets have ridden up. He slides his wide palm up Jensen’s leg in a firm glide, and Jensen can’t control the full-body shudder his touch elicits. Jared journeys slowly over his knee-cap, pausing just as his fingers tickle the sensitive skin of Jensen’s inner thigh. The brief respite of anticipation gives Jensen just enough time to really get a good look at the gorgeous man before him, and he’s a little surprised by what he was too distracted to notice before.

“You shaved!” Jensen sounds shocked, even though, _duh, it’s not like I didn’t just hear the razor with my own ears._ Jared chuckles, and his beautiful, clean-shaven face breaks into a smile so breath-taking - dimples cut so deep into his cheeks and far more pronounced than they ever were under the cover of the now absent stubble - that Jensen is caught, absolutely stunned at how impossibly _more_ gorgeous Jared has become with so seemingly small a change. He draws in a stuttering breath. “Damn, man. You really clean up _nice_.”

“Yeah?” Jared’s dimples flash again.

“Ohhhh yeah,” Jensen nods vigorously, eyes wide and unable to tear his gaze from Jared. Jared laughs, a low, sexy rumble from deep in his throat, and he leans forward, bending at the waist to bring his head within inches from Jensen’s face.

“Awesome. I’m glad you like it.” Jared closes the distance between them, capturing Jensen’s lips in a kiss, a soft press of his mouth, a little nip of teeth, an exploratory swipe of his tongue. Jensen opens his mouth to him on a gasp as Jared moves his hand to brush against where Jensen’s is still wrapped around his leaking cock. Jared’s fingers surround Jensen’s whole hand, and he begins to move them, gently encouraging Jensen to continue his self-ministrations under his guidance.

“ _Fuck_ , Jared, feel so good,” Jensen moans against Jared’s mouth. Jared just chuckles, loosening and tightening his hand around Jensen’s rhythmically, fueling the heat that’s rapidly growing low in Jensen’s belly. Jensen’s head falls back, lost to the sensation, and Jared swoops in immediately to kiss and bite at the tendons of his exposed neck. When Jared drags his thumb over the slit of Jensen’s weeping cock, that’s it.

“Jared!” Jensen exclaims as he spills over their interwoven hands. Jared hums softly in his ear as Jensen shudders through his release, soothing words of praise and comfort into his overheated skin. Jared runs his fingers over Jensen’s trembling stomach, butterfly touches that comfort and relax him as his pleasure-high subsides. His whole body collapses, loose and satiated. With one final kiss at the side of his mouth, Jared disengages from Jensen, wiping his hand on the sheets and sitting up straight once again, smiling fondly down at Jensen.

When Jensen can think straight again, he surveys the man perched on the bed beside him. He rakes his gaze over Jared’s face, taking in every detail made newly visible. He brings his clean hand up to stroke over the smooth planes of Jared’s cheek, traces a finger down the line of his dimple, rubs a thumb over the now-naked groove of his chin.

“So fuckin’ beautiful, Jare’.”

Jared blushes at the praise, and the flush fills his whole face in a gorgeous pink.

Jensen huffs out a small laugh and continues, half-jokingly, “Can’t believe I’m saying this… but I almost miss the awful facial hair.”

Jared laughs outright at that, throwing his head back in his amusement and leaving Jensen with the tantalizing view of his totally stubble-free neck instead.

“I’m not kidding!” Jensen exclaims, fighting his own grin. “God, if I’d’ve known that gorgeous mug was hiding under all that fur, I might’ve been unable to even talk to you last night.”

Jared sobers a bit at that, and tilts his head back down to meet Jensen’s gaze, his eyes still glittering happily.

“Well, I _did_ take a picture before I shaved it all off. I could message it to you, if you think you’ll miss it all that much.” Jared waggles his eyebrows teasingly and Jensen lets his smile break free.

“You askin’ me for my number, baby-face Axl?”

“Yeah, I think maybe I am.” Jared returns Jensen's grin, full-dimpled and so fucking brilliant.

“Well, good.” Jensen licks his lips and shifts his eyes down to where his hand is tangling in the coarse comforter covering his legs. “‘Cause, truth is… gonna miss _you_ a helluva lot more than I’m gonna miss the wannabe rock-star haircut.” He raises his eyes back to Jared, tentative, afraid of this huge feeling welling up inside his chest that he soon has to say goodbye to one of the most beautiful, interesting, all-around attractive men he’s ever met.

“ _Jensen_.” Jared breathes his name, reaching out with one massive paw to cup the side of his face. Jensen turns his head to kiss the inside of Jared’s palm, tenderly nuzzling, just a little, into the reassuring warmth and strength of it.

“I mean it, man.” Jensen plows ahead, anxious to share his thoughts, for fear that this is the only chance he’ll have to say them.

“I don’t usually do this. Well, I mean, I’ve _done_ this, obviously,” he glances at his tiny overnight bag with a slightly deprecating huff, “but… I don’t do _this_.” He motions between them with a vague gesture. “I don’t stay, don’t want to deal with the morning after.” He chuckles a little, smirking up at Jared. “Granted, you did work me pretty damn well last night, so I _could_ blame pure sexual exhaustion… but I had my chance while you were in the bathroom today, and I didn’t take it. I didn’t want to go. Don’t want _you_ to go.”

Jared opens his mouth as though to respond, but Jensen cuts him off.

“I mean, you leave today, right? God, I hardly know anything about you, and I still don’t want this thing, whatever it is that we have, to end. You could live hundreds of miles away for all I know, but that doesn’t keep me from wanting you, wanting the chance at more.”

Jensen laughs at himself. _’God, when did I become such a_ sap?’ he wonders. He knows he’s hooked on Jared, and he feels absolutely helpless, no way in control of the situation and the unexpected, unwanted effect it’s having on his heart. He’s not looking at Jared, his arms lying limply at his sides now as he contemplates their seemingly impossible circumstances. Not to mention that Jared might not feel even remotely the same.

Then, Jared is grabbing his wrists and drawing him in with eyes - seas of blue-green today - that are shining happily with what could very well be a sheen of tears at the corners.

“Jensen…” he starts, his voice rough with emotion, “I know we don’t really know each other, but this,” he raises Jensen’s hands so he can kiss at his knuckles, “this has been amazing. I haven’t felt this way in a _long_ time. Hell, I don’t know if I’ve _ever_ felt like this. When you say you’re not usually like this… man, I get it. I’m the same fuckin’ way.” He shakes his head, the layers of his glorious hair falling loosely around his face. He puffs out a breath of air to blow the strands back in place and continues, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing over the ridges of Jensen’s hands.

“And yes, we’re leaving today. Pretty soon, in fact. But this is our last leg - I only live about five hours away from here, and I’ll be back home tonight.”

Jensen’s breath catches in his chest; even with the small twinge of pain at Jared’s talk of being gone so soon, there is a feeling of lightness blooming now, a hope that maybe things aren’t as impossible as they’d seemed. Jared meets his gaze steadily, his utterly enchanting eyes boring into Jensen’s with an intensity that only fans that optimistic flame.

“I suppose that might feel far away, but man - on the bike, that’s like, the perfect day’s drive. Wouldn’t feel like any trouble at all, especially if I knew _you_ were going to be there at the end. I don’t want this to be over, either, Jen, and I’m willing to give it a try if you are.”

When Jared stops his speech, Jensen sits staring at him, slack-jawed in amazement for all of five seconds before springing his whole body at him. He flings his arms around Jared’s neck and wraps his legs to straddle Jared’s waist. He practically attacks Jared’s face with his lips, kissing everywhere they can reach as his excitement and happiness bubble over, the prospect of their future together wiping away everything but hope and gleeful anticipation for whatever is in store.

Jared lifts his hands to cup Jensen's ass and pull him closer, chasing down his mouth and capturing it with his own, drawing him into a fervent kiss. His tongue licks inside, sweeping over every surface and carving out a home there, and Jensen gladly lets him in, sucking on the muscle and savoring every flavor of Jared. He moans as he feels Jared growing hard beneath him, his own arousal evident again as well. He pulls away from Jared with a little shake of his head.

“Don’t know why you want to be with me when I keep leaving you hanging.”

Jared just grins broadly at him and swoops in for another kiss.

“Aw, I don’t mind,” he chuckles. “So far, you’ve more than made up for it every time. I seem to remember you being _very_ satisfying last night.”

Jensen smiles wide, a challenging glint in his eye.

“So, how long before you have to head out? You know, _this_ time.” He raises his eyebrows, hoping to convey his meaning that this is only the first time of many, many more.

“About an hour,” Jared replies.

“Good - plenty of time then,” Jensen purrs as he hauls them both backwards onto the bed, Jared landing on top of him, his hands already tugging and pulling to remove Jared’s few layers of clothing. And it turns out that it _is_ the perfect amount of time - the first hour that sets just the right pace and rhythm. _Rock n’ roll will never die._ This time, when both men ‘finish’, with matching smiles and absolutely glowing with happy satisfaction, it’s only the beginning - and it's all theirs. 

THE END.

**Author's Note:**

> Both [gluedwithgold](http://archiveofourown.org/users/gluedwithgold/pseuds/gluedwithgold) and [non_tiembo_mala](http://archiveofourown.org/users/non_tiembo_mala/pseuds/non_tiembo_mala) also wrote _awesome_ fics for this prompt - be sure to check theirs out, too! Also thanks to [gluedwithgold](http://archiveofourown.org/users/gluedwithgold/pseuds/gluedwithgold) for beta'ing and making sure this fic didn't leave anyone hanging ;)
> 
> Technical note: if there's anyone as detail-oriented as me who's reading this fic and, Chuck only knows why, decides to do the math, they'll realize that my timeline is slightly skewed, because Jared turned 30 in 2012, and Rob's stroke was in 2013. I'm letting it slide because it's an AU, and that's _clearly_ not the only detail that doesn't match real life. But I just want you to know that I am aware of that discrepancy, lol.
> 
> Another note for you detail lovers out there: each beer I mention by name in this fic is one offered by Richard's favorite brewery, [Terminal Gravity Brewing](http://www.terminalgravitybrewing.com/), which is based out of Oregon.
> 
> Thank you to [MamaWithGloriousPurpose](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaWithGloriousPurpose/pseuds/MamaWithGloriousPurpose) for the WIP read, and for your enthusiasm in wanting more ;) <3
> 
> Last, but _absolutely_ not least, thank YOU for reading! This is the longest fic I've ever written by myself to date, and I very much appreciate you sticking with me until the end. Comments and kudos are love! ^_^


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